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Yeah, you like that baby? Harold groaned, his member hammered away at Melanies slit. Mmm, yes, she said, fuck me, baby. Harolds thrusting intensified, and Melanie felt pain shoot throughout her lower body with every plunge. She grit her teeth, and pressed her pelvis further into the bed sheets. Her moans grew louder as the sensation became more and more unpleasant yet she did her best to feign enjoyment. God, cant he tell Im dry as the Sahara? She felt Harold grip tighter, and his pegging slowed. Melanie took the opportunity to prop up on her forearms and adjust her disheveled auburn hair, and she prepared for his inevitable frenzy. Oh yeah, Harold moaned, you want it harder, girl? Melanie hesitated, not wanting to subject herself to more misery. Harold responded by smacking her ass. I said, do you want it harder? No, Melanie said, no, I dont. Cut!
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Harold pulled out, agitated. They had been shooting for three hours, with no end in sight. Whats wrong now? he asked, agitated. Im sorry, Melanie replied, sprawled out on the bed, it just hurts too much. Lindsay approached the actors, handing them both robes, and turned to Melanie. Girl, I know its hard, but if we stop filming every five minutes to lube you, were never going to get this done. The film crew populated the set as they went about adjusting props and mopping bodily fluids. Melanie was handed a bottle of lubricant. Lindsay continued, Our times almost up here. We need to at least finish this scene. Can you do that for me? Yeah, Melanie replied. She didnt want to disappoint her. Alright, Lindsay said, and then she turned to Harold. What about you? You gonna make it? Harold nodded, and shooting continued. Melanie needed lube twice more before filming completed. The scene was declared a wrap and Melanie and Lindsay talked idly, as they had many times before.
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I just dont like him, Melanie said, tightening her robe. Hes too pleased with himself. Lindsay chuckled. Most men in porn are, she replied. They think theyre big stars because they get paid to fuck all day. The production team scurried around the set, dismantling lights and replacing the bed sheets. Lindsay sat in her directors chair, nibbling on a fresh apple. She continued, Males are always hired based on their stamina and size. The industry doesnt give a shit if youve killed a man, only if you can fuck. She bit into her apple, and then added, Oh yeah, and you have to be clean. Melanie sighed. Yeah, I know, I just wish I could be paired with someone that didnt see me as a slab of meat. I understand. Youll have to blame my casting agent for that. There was a lull in conversation. Melanie glanced around the room, examining the busy-bees of the studio. Most of the crew had already left only a handful remained. Hey, Lindsay said, you remember that contest, right?
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Melanie looked up. Shit, she thought, I forgot all about it. Six months ago, Lindsay encouraged her to volunteer for a contest. The winner randomly selected would be granted an afternoon with a porn star. Most actresses in the industry were reluctant to accept the job (they didnt care to meet their fans), however Melanie decided it would be a nice break from a day on set. Oh, yeah, Melanie said. Weve found a winner. I think youll like him. Uh-huh, the entire date hes probably just going to ask personal questions and imagine me nude. Lindsay laughed. He doesnt need to, he already knows what youre like naked. Melanie smiled. As much as she disliked the porn industry, she was glad to have met Lindsay. Anyway, she continued, his name is Quentin. Hes twentyeight, divorced, and hes a taxidermist. Melanie considered this. Quentin?

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Yeah, thats what I said. He sounds like a smart guy, though. Maybe he wont objectify you like Harold does. She could only hope. They then said their goodbyes, and Melanie left the studio. As Melanie walked into her apartment, phone in one hand, Jasons Deli take-out in the other, Autumn the cat jumped on the kitchen counter. Hey girl, Melanie said, petting her. You must be hungry, huh? Autumn purred. Melanie reached into the overhead counter and retrieved a can of Dagwood Delight, Autumns favorite. Melanie served her beloved tabby the scrumptious slop, and turned to her cellphone. Two new messages. The first one, from mom, read hey hun. Got your car payment for u. Its in the mail. Love u. Thank God. Melanie wasnt proud of being behind on her bills. Her living space was littered with novelties that, as her father would say, were a waste of an honest days work. Overpriced souvenirs, self-help books, and Doctor Who figurines were scattered throughout her apartment.
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Its my money, Ill do what I want with it, she would say. Fine, dad would say, but dont come crawling to me when a debt collector is at your door. Dad would freak if he knew mom was covering for me this month. A full-time job as an actress and she cant even pay for her car, he might say. At least mom can support me. She knew the truth behind Melanies profession, too. When you were little, mom had told her, I said I would be proud of you no matter what. I will always mean that. Sometimes dad would ask to see one of Melanies movies, but she always told him theyre under tight wraps at the studio. Melanie replied to her mom, thanking her for the support, and then checked the remaining message. It was from her agent, Dan. Hey M, got some deets on the contest for ya. We got a winner! Call me ASAP. She plopped herself in front of the television, her aptly-named Jack the Ripper sandwich sitting on her lap. Its contents consisted of a fried chicken breast, which was smothered in mayonnaise, along with a
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plentiful serving of shredded lettuce, and a slice of jack cheese. After mulling over the days events and savoring her tasty (and calorific) sandwich, she gave Dan a call. Two rings. Hello? Hey Dan, just got your text. Whats up? Oh, one second, there were strange, garbled sounds of movement from Daniels end. Just gotta slide into my office here She heard the distinct sound of papers rustling. Ah, here we are, he finally said, Quentin Lebowitz. Probably about as unfortunate as names get, but the guys kinda decent lookin I guess. Hes twenty-eight, only a few years older than you, so things wont be too weird for ya. Melanie was twenty-two. She idly fingered a bit of shredded lettuce that remained on her plate. Do you know where were going for the date? she asked. I hope youre a fan of the Pita Palace, Dan replied, he specially requested it. Melanie thought their cuisine was not as tasty as Jasons Deli, but it wasnt terrible either.
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Youll be meeting him on Wednesday, at two oclock. Alright Dan, thanks for the info. They hung up, and Melanie reclined on her couch, aimlessly flipping channels on her modest television. Itll be fun, she thought, hell probably be too awkward to look at me anyway. The next day, Harold was sick, and Melanie had the Tuesday to herself. She spent it wandering the greenery of Fourth of July Park, reminiscing of her memories there. *** Ball go hidey! Melanie would say to Gwen, and her expression lit into one of wonder and determination ball go hidey? Gwen go findy. Where ball, Gwen? Where ball? Gwen would search the parks playground, often retracing her steps, until Melanie would guide her along the right path in a game of hot-or-cold. Over there, Gwen! I see ball! Over there!
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Joyous fits of laughter burst from them both as they paraded across the grounds, the lush summer air enveloping them in its warmth. Over the ample tree line, the evening sun shined with brilliance. It seemed to cast a spotlight on the girls while they ran together, as if they were the stars of an enchanting play, with the birds and crickets playing the role of choir. This was how Melanie spent summer evenings as a teenager. Gwens parents often went on date nights together intent on keeping their romance alive and left their four-year-old daughter in Melanies care. She often treated her with park visits, arts and crafts, and bowling games, much to her delight. Gwen would look back on these days as the best part of her early childhood. Years went by, and Melanies schedule filled, leaving Gwens parents searching for a new sitter. Now, Melanie paced the parks aging playground, reminiscing on warm memories. She breathed in the luscious summer air, which carried the scent of blossomed flowers and evergreens. It was a chilly morning for August, and she shivered slightly while watching the children play.
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Where ball, Gwen? Where ball? She missed those days. I wonder what Gwen would think of me now. Moms the only one who truly accepts me. Even her close friend, Katie, gave her a strange look when she confessed to being a porn star. I already knew, she said, some old high school friends told me. And no, I havent watched the videos. A hand waved in Melanies face, startling her. She flinched and turned, meeting eyes with someone shed never seen before a middleaged woman with short, blonde hair and a purple scarf wrapped around her neck. Uh, can I help you? Melanie said. Oh, sorry, the woman replied, I was just making sure you were okay. Melanie clasped her hands and glanced down. Yeah, she looked up and nodded, yeah, Im fine. Thanks. Okay, she replied. So, which one is yours? she gestured towards the children. I dont have one.
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The blonde woman stared at her, surprised by the answer. Oh. I mean, well, Im just remembering the days I spent here. I used to babysit. This satisfied the woman, and she laughed. Oh, I remember those days. They talked briefly. The womans name was Carol, and she had two kids, both boys, ages six and nine. They were squeezing in the last few days of summer vacation at the park. At some point, Melanie was forced to say she acted in romance movies, and her films were under tight wraps at the studio. *** It was Wednesday, and Melanie was running late. Dan is going to kill me. She was brushing her teeth while straightening her hair. The next step was makeup, then deodorant and accessories. A text from Katie lit up her phone, reminding her that two oclock was only twenty minutes away. Autumn meowed at the bathroom door.

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Ill feed you in a minute! she shouted. Melanie was tender headed each stroke of the straightener hurt, and she watched her teeth grit in the mirror. Beauty is a curse on the world, she thought. Hair care products, lotions, and moisturizers littered the bathroom counter. Finishing her hair and teeth, she fumbled through her drawers, searching for her makeup kit. Makeup artists at the studio usually took care of her appearance, but not today. Eyeliner. Mascara. Lipstick. Meow. Almost done! Melanie made sure to look her best for Quentin. She didnt care much for looking good, but if she were anything less than spectacular, he might complain. Autumn meowed thrice more before Melanie finished. Once she opened the door, her cat enveloped her in a barrage of purring and rubbing. Melanie picked her up and went into the kitchen.

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Youre spoiled rotten, you know that? she said lovingly, and put her down on the floor. Autumn was eager to eat, and jumped up to the counter as Melanie scooped a can of Dagwood Delight into a bowl. As she placed the empty tin into the trash, Melanie noticed her reserves of cat food were running low. She added it to her shopping list for Saturday, but she would never be visiting the grocery store that weekend. *** Melanie pulled into the parking lot of Pita Palace thirteen minutes past two. She had already phoned Dan, who informed her that yes, Quentin was inside in the third booth from the left, and that if there was any trouble she was to excuse herself to the bathroom and call him. Ive got some security for you waiting about a block around the corner. If the guys a creep, go to the bathroom and give me a ring. Theyll show up and well sort this out. If it comes to that, though, youll only get half the pay. Melanie knew porn enthusiasts could be a weird bunch, but she felt hopeful about Quentin. Im sure hes an alright guy. She allowed herself
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a moment for brief composure, examined her face in the rear view mirror, and exited the vehicle. She met eyes with the hostess, who smiled warmly and asked, are you Melanie? This startled her. Um, yes. Right this way, maam. She led Melanie off to the left, and on the third booth down, she spotted Quentin. He seemed to have walked straight out of Miami Vice. His dress was consisted of a violet-blue suit, coupled with matching dress pants and a black shirt. He had short, curly hair, and wore a golden necklace. A pair of aviator sunglasses laid on the table. The hostess showed Melanie into the booth, mentioning their waitress will be over in just a moment. She turned to look into Quentins eyes and flashed a weak smile. He grinned. Hello, Melanie. He offered his hand. She took it. Its nice to meet you, Quentin. I hear youre quite a character.
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Really? he smirked, showing some of dazzlingly white teeth. What have they told you? Oh, not much, actually. I know that youre a taxidermist. Whats that like? Quentin laughed. Its a joy. I spend my days surrounded by stuffed corpses. He talked of taxidermy until their food arrived. Melanie learned a lot about the art of skinning, and how it takes delicacy similar to a surgeons. A steady hand is important, and you gotta keep your work lookin good. If its not lifelike, you wont get business. He took a sip from his soda. He had ordered a chicken club pita with extra honey dijon. Melanie fingered her straws wrapper. She wanted to keep the conversation focused on him as long as possible. I just dont understand why people would want to stuff their pets; holding onto the lifeless critter seems depressing, and obsessive. Quentin snickered. I dont care much for why. Their obsession means more money in my pocket.
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So youre just a means to an end kind of guy? A brief pause. He didnt seem amused by her comment, which, admittedly, had accidentally slipped out. Quentin shot a half-glare with lips crumpled into a frown. I suppose you could say that. Melanie blushed and she looked down, continuing to play with her wrapper. She wished for their food, which would hopefully provide a lull in conversation. So tell me, Quentin leaned forward over the table, clasping his hands together. When youre on camera do you fake it? She looked up, shocked, mouth agape. Her cheeks were blazing red. Oh come on, Im not going to win a date with a porn star and talk about my job the whole time. You know Ive seen your stuff, I just want to help out the spank bank. I You take dick all day in front of the camera, and you cant even talk about it? Her brow furrowed. Is this how you talk to all women?
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He stretched his arms across the booth. Hey, Im just a means to an end guy, I guess. Melanie averted her gaze, craving something different to fix her eyes on. She settled on the menu holder, which advertised Wine Wednesday! Quentin pressed the issue. So, are you going to answer my question? She frowned at him. He continued, You know, I never thought a porn star would be so modest. If I was here with Eva Angelina, shed already have her top off, showi No, Melanie said, sporting a smile. No, Im not faking it. This caught Quentin off guard. And Evas boobs disgust me. Mine are all natural. He allowed a coy grin, his stare focused on her chest. Well, am I gonna get a gander or not? She eyed him sensually, and giggled. Im not that easy. He continued to ogle her while leaning closer. Im sure youll find me much more charming than your costars.
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God, this is torture. She figured taking charge and playing along was better than being insulted the entire time. Excusing herself and calling Dan seemed more favorable with each passing minute, but she wanted the extra pay. If I can tough it out, Ill get a nice fat check in the mail. They continued this tense flirting until their meal arrived. Melanie nibbled on her B.L.T. pita, but Quentin hardly touched his plate. He was fixated on Melanie, who did her best to avoid eye contact while she slowly snacked on her lunch. A dab of ranch dressing landed on her breast, and Quentin snickered. Melanie quickly wiped her bosom and glared at him. Whats so funny? He looked up and uncovered his mouth. Thats not the only white stuff youll be seeing tonight. She exclaimed in awe. Quentin grinned. Touched a nerve, have I? ***
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Mist sprinkled against Melanies windshield as she drove home; the partly cloudy afternoon gave way to a dreary and gray evening. Her wipers screeched across the glass, drowning out Dans voice on her phone. Sorry, say again? I said, everything went well? Melanie pursed her lips. Yeah, he was a bit of a creep at times, but I stuck it out. He didnt even eat his sandwich or whatever, he just sat there making comments and asking questions until the hour was up and I told him I had to leave. How big do you think my dick is? Dont you wish your tits were bigger? Why havent you done a threesome yet? Yeah, I know the type, Dan said. Well, Im glad you handled it. Ill deposit the check into your account in the next three days or so. Melanie heard papers rustling. So, uh hows the film coming? Its slow, she replied, mostly my fault. I dont like my partner. Lindsay picked a bad apple, huh? She grinned. Yeah, I guess so. Only a couple days left, though.
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Cool. Papers rustled. Melanie briefly wondered how Dan could be so disorganized, yet still keep track of it all. The mist turned into a steady shower, and Melanies wipers screeched evenly. Dans sifting stopped. What the hell is that? Oh, its just my wipers. There was a brief pause, but then he laughed. Alright, well, Ive got some more work lined up for you after shooting, but if you want to take a break I can dish it out to another client. Melanie considered this. A break would be lovely, but I cant stop working. I need the money. No, thats okay; I need steady work. Alright, M. Another pause. Well, I gotta go, catch ya later. Bye, Dan. Click. Autumn dutifully greeted her owner when she walked in the door. Melanie dodged the cats weaving, and collapsed on the couch, exhausted. Jasons Deli takeout was still present on her coffee table, with half a bite remaining in the monstrous sandwich. This inspired her stomach, which growled in want. She had only eaten a few bites of her B.L.T. pita, but saved the remainder for carryout.
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Oh, damn it. I left it in my car. She groaned, not wanting to leave the sanctity of the couch, but another growl from her stomach gave enough encouragement to hike outside and grab her meal. Fifteen minutes later, Melanie was back in her living room. A Styrofoam box laid in her lap, which cradled the remainder of her lunch. On TV, she watched a countdown of the top ten dumbest criminals, laughing at the absurdity. Who the hell throws a brick at a barred window? Autumn had been fed, but she was relentless for attention, prying at every angle; Melanie fended off her cats stubborn approaches until she finished her meal. Autumn climbed into her owners lap, yet still seemed quite uneasy, giving Melanie distressed looks and meowing constantly. What is it, girl? I already fed you. What do you want? A crack of thunder bellowed outside. The rain had intensified into a steady downpour, streaking the windows of Melanies apartment as the dim evening light receded to darkness. The weather has her spooked, I guess.
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She turned her attention back to the TV, which asked her to stand by as it searched for a satellite signal. Sigh. Well, thats that, I suppose. Melanie took the opportunity to gather the mess on her coffee table and throw it in the trash. Autumn followed. Melanie began her evening routine of winding down. After changing clothes and removing makeup, she settled into her queen-sized bed, and began reading her weekly library book, Between Sisters. Only two days remained until it was due, and she was merely halfway through. Lots of free time this evening to catch up, at least. Autumn snuggled against her side, occasionally raising her head and giving Melanie concerned looks as Mother Natures rampage continued. The next morning, Melanie felt something amiss. Autumn wasnt with her, and an eerie silence enveloped the apartment. She could only hear the wall clock, ticking away, marking each second as it passes. It was nine-thirty. She rose from bed and discarded her fears, assumed that Autumn had gone to do her business, and trudged into the bathroom.
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Im never going to finish that damned book. Didnt even make it ten pages. Might as well return it today. She brushed her teeth and combed her hair, then shuffled out of her bathroom. Autumn was still nowhere to be found. Melanie left the bedroom and went down the hall to the living room. The clocks ticking fading away with each step. After rounding the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks. The living room was caked in blood. The carpet had turned dark red; splotches of red covered the furniture, drapes, and walls. From the ceiling fan hung a mass of meat, a wire wrapped around it. Melanie turned her eyes to the coffee table. Brown fur covered its surface, and blood dripping from the slab of meat tainted its color. Her phone vibrated. It laid in the middle of the coffee table, surrounded by fur. The caller ID read BLOCKED. She took in the scene, her eyes wide and mouth agape. Tears formed, and she fought back the urge to scream. Slowly, she made her way to the coffee table, one step at a time; the journey felt endless, the

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smell of rotting flesh encapsulating her, the deathly silence giving way to the soft vibrations of her phone. She answered the call, and said nothing. From the speaker came the distinct sound of traffic, accompanied by the horns of angry commuters, until a familiar voice spoke. Taxidermys fun, isnt it? I thought your cat could use a makeover. Silence. Your agent was dumb enough to e-mail me his file on you. All I had to do was pose as an interested director. Word of advice, ditch him, hes got a case of scatterbrain. Silence. Anyway, I figured this would get your attention. Your pitiful flirting at the diner was, frankly, quite insulting. Silence. Melanie, fighting off muffled sobs, finally spoke. How could you do this?

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Quentin laughed. Im just a means to an end guy, I guess. Hey, why dont we get dinner at the Pita Palace tonight? I can tell you how easy it is to skin humans.

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